


Red Room Redemption

by BeccaAnne814



Series: Bucky Barnes x Reader Series [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Fire, Guns, Knives, Probably a curse word or two, Violence, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaAnne814/pseuds/BeccaAnne814
Summary: Growing up in the Red Room Academy, you’d heard stories of the one that had gotten away.  The name Natalia Romanova was a curse within the walls of your prison, but she was all that gave you hope.  Between the Mistress and the Soldier, your life is a living hell, but you dream of a day when it will all just be a memory.  Will you ever be able to escape and if you do, will you ever get a chance to thank the woman that gave you the courage to try?
Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Series: Bucky Barnes x Reader Series [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/774297
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Red Room Redemption

**Bucky Barnes x Reader**

**Summary** – Growing up in the Red Room Academy, you’d heard stories of the one that had gotten away. The name Natalia Romanova was a curse within the walls of your prison, but she was all that gave you hope. Between the Mistress and the Soldier, your life is a living hell, but you dream of a day when it will all just be a memory. Will you ever be able to escape and if you do, will you ever get a chance to thank the woman that gave you the courage to try?

**Warnings** – Angst, Violence, Knives, Guns, Blood, Fire, Endgame Spoilers…probably a curse word or two

**Word Count** – 20K

**Notes **\- Parts 1 - 11 of 11

** _**Updated December 26, 2019**_ **

_ ** [Masterlist](https://beccaanne814.tumblr.com/post/174989754188/masterlist) ** _

[[MORE]]

She'd only been four years old when her mother—starving and destitute—had sold her to the Mistress for a few rubles. To the casual observer, it would have seemed as though her mother had been doing the best by her daughter, but in essence, she'd been signing her death certificate.

Officially, it was an all-girls boarding school, but behind closed doors they were learning more than just reading and mathematics. The Mistress and her team were actually training the next generation of Russian spies—deadly assassins that were as lethal as they were beautiful.

Most of the other girls in her class quickly forgot about their old lives since most of them had a similar upbringing as YN's, but she couldn't help but think about her mother during the long, cold Russian nights. She often wondered if her mother were still alive or if the few rubles she'd gained from selling her only child had run out too quickly to spare her life. If her mother had known what horrors the Mistress would reap down upon her daughter's head, would she still have sold her? These questions often kept YN lying awake at night as they burrowed deep within her soul.

As much as she hated the Mistress and the other cruel instructors in the Red Room, she did her best to excel in every area—whether it be in the classroom, the dance studio, or the training room. She had no desire to be an assassin, but she knew her only chance to escape from this nightmare was to be the best. If she were the best, then they would trust her to go out on missions on her own and then she would have a chance to find her freedom. 

Rumors were a staple when you housed a large group of girls together, but it wasn't boys they were interested in. Mostly they talked of girls that had gone on before them, but there was one in particular that was only whispered about in the darkest corners of the academy. Her name was a curse, and the Mistress had forbidden it to be spoken aloud. Natalia Romanova had been the Mistress' greatest asset, but since she'd defected, the Black Widow was now her greatest failure. 

YN didn't see the tale of the Black Widow as caution, but instead as one of hope. If the great Natalia Romanova could escape the clutches of the Red Room, then so could she. But before she could even think about a life away from the Mistress, she had to graduate, and that was no easy feat. She'd watched stronger girls than she falter and fail, so YN was under no misconceptions that she would ever make it out of the academy alive—let alone be able to seek out the people that could help her build a new life.

As she continued to advance through the different stages of the program, she did her best to mentally and physically prepare herself for her greatest challenge. She'd heard about the graduation ceremony that would follow her first successful kill, but to her that was just a price she had to pay along the way. Her true fear lay within the training room before they placed a gun in her hands and forced her take another human being's life. Her true fear was him.

The Winter Soldier.

He was lethal, and cold, and completely unrelenting. Most of the girls that walked into the training room with him never walked back out again. If she had any chance of living the life she'd only dreamt about, she would have to face him and walk away to tell the tale. 

Communication between the girls wasn't expressly forbidden, but it wasn't exactly invited either. Still, she risked being reprimanded and sought out the girls that she knew had survived their training with the Soldier. Learning everything she could about him was the key to her success.

When it was finally her turn to face him, she was shocked. She'd been expecting a scarred and disfigured brute, but there was a lethal beauty about him that almost mesmerized her. In her conversations with the other girls, she'd learned more about him than she'd bargained for. She wasn't sure how much of the story was true, but if any of it was, then he was as much a victim of this horrid place as she was. But it didn't matter what secrets his past held. She had to focus on the present.

Her months of research into the Soldier paid off. She walked away from their training sessions whole, but not unscathed. Bruised and bloody after each of their encounters, she still went back day after day until the Mistress was satisfied that he could teach her no more. The old hag had been so impressed that she'd actually paid YN a compliment for her ability to go toe to toe with the Fist of HYDRA. YN had heard once that Natalia had once been considered the Soldier's finest student, and YN wondered if the Mistress looked at her and saw the same fire in her eyes that Natalia had been rumored to have.

The rest of her training passed by in a blur, and she hated how easy it was for her to hold the gun in her hand and pull the trigger. A man's life was gone because of her, but she didn't have the luxury to dwell on the sins she had—and would—commit on her quest for something better.

Upon her graduation, the Mistress had beamed with pride. It was disturbing to see a smile on the face of someone who carried so much hate in her heart, and YN vowed that she would personally see that woman die by her own hand even if she lost her own life doing it. Just as the anesthesia was about to take it's hold on her, YN heard the Mistress say one last thing.

"She's the One."

Those words stuck in YN's mind over the next few years as she was given one assignment after another.

The One. 

She'd known that the Red Room served a purpose within HYDRA and the KGB, but now she was starting to suspect that there was something even more sinister awaiting her once the Mistress deemed her worthy. Her leash was growing longer with each successful mission, but her handlers were always close by to reel her in if they even suspected that she was starting to wander off. 

Even though the real world beckoned to her like a lover in the night, she resisted temptation and gave neither her handlers nor the Mistress any reason to mistrust her. She was an amazing actress, but they should already know that—they'd taught her well. Still, she played her part and bided her time.

And then it happened.

She'd always assumed that her opportunity would come while she was on an assignment, but she'd been wrong. Trusting her on her own wasn't an option the Mistress had, considering how horribly things had gone wrong with Natalia. But they'd come to trust her within the walls of the academy and that had been their biggest mistake.

The file had been left on the Mistress' desk, and YN had been so overcome with temptation that she'd thrown caution to the wind and hurriedly flipped through it before the Mistress returned. The Soldier had fascinated her as much as the Black Widow had, so she jumped at the opportunity to learn everything she could about him. As her eyes scanned over the pages, one sentence stood out as if it had highlighted.

The Soldier had a kill switch.

Some of the girls had dared to voice their desire to escape, but older, much more experienced girls had cautioned them against making any plans. The Winter Soldier had orders to kill any girl that dared to leave the academy without permission. That threat alone had been enough to discourage any fanciful hopes they may have had, but now that YN knew there was a way to incapacitate her biggest threat, she knew she a better chance of succeeding. It was still a long shot, but if she never tried, she'd end up dying here with all the rest of them.

She dared not share her plans with anyone, but strategized on her own. She'd been given charge of a younger group of girls to train, and as she worked with the children her heart began to soften toward them. It hadn't been too long ago that she'd been where they were—scared and alone, and still somewhat innocent.

Natalia had only saved herself, but that was the only option available to her. YN was living within a different set of circumstances and she knew that leaving the younger girls behind would haunt her for the rest of her life. The older girls were a different story. They'd already been indoctrinated, and YN wasn't sure they could be saved—or trusted. With a heavy heart, she knew what she needed to do.

The battle was bloody, and it was exhausting, but as she ushered the small children—wide-eyed with fear—into the back of a cargo transport truck, she knew she'd done the right thing. She'd killed more people in one night than she had during her entire time with the Mistress, but it was worth it.

As for the Mistress, YN had kept the promise she'd made to herself all those years ago. She'd killed the old hag herself. As she'd approached the old woman, YN knew that the Mistress been expecting a long, drawn out speech about why she had do die, but YN hadn't wasted her breath. With one quick slice of her knife, the Mistress had collapsed in a pool of her own blood. The bitch knew how evil she was—she didn't need YN to remind her.

When the Soldier had been sent to kill her, she'd been ready. With one carefully spoken word, he'd fallen unconscious before her feet. Up until that moment, she hadn't been sure it would work. There was a part of her that had wondered if the Mistress had left that file on her desk just to test YN. 

After reading his history and learning at the rumors had been true, YN had hated to leave him to die with the others, but she knew she couldn't save everyone. She just hoped that the man trapped within the steel cage of his own mind could forgive her for not being able to save him as well.

As she stood beside the truck full of frightened and crying girls, she turned to look at the place she'd been held captive for most of her life. As the lights flickered in her eyes, she had one last thought. The Mistress had been right.

She was the One.

She was the one that had been destined to burn the whole damn thing to the ground.

As the flames engulfing the Red Room Academy reflected in the truck's side mirrors, YN took one final look at the place she'd reluctantly called home for most of her life. It hadn't all been bad, and she had the proof of that whimpering quietly in the covered bed of the truck. The girls she'd rescued before she'd torched the place were going to be her redemption. She'd committed horrible atrocities in her young life, but she would do right by the innocent souls she'd saved from the Mistress.

She'd driven through the night and eventually the quiet rumbling of the truck's engine had lulled the girls to sleep. It would have been quicker to head north to Lithuania, or even west to Poland, but she'd chosen Ukraine to the south simply because their borders were easier to cross and she knew some of the border guards from missions she'd run for the Mistress. If luck was on her side, she'd happen upon one of the men that had a crush on her and they might not look too carefully at the cargo she was smuggling into their country.

The next few weeks would be the hardest, and YN had understood that by taking the girls with her, she was doubling her chances of getting caught. But when she'd looked into their frightened eyes, she'd known that leaving them behind would haunt her more than the lives she'd already taken in service of the monsters her mother had sold her to all those years ago.

Setting the girls up in an abandoned building in Kiev, she'd done her best to provide for their every need. They were extremely obedient and were content to stay huddled up together during the day while YN sought work so she could pay for the food to fill their constantly grumbling bellies. At night, they slept peacefully while YN employed the skills she'd learned from the Red Room to supplement the meager income she earned from her completely respectable day job. Pickpocketing was as illegal as murder for hire, but it sat better on her conscience to take someone's money rather than their life.

The weeks bled into months and eventually the girls grew old enough to start pulling their own weight. YN had continued their education from the Red Room, but instead of teaching them to be ruthless assassins, she'd taught them every form of martial arts she'd ever learned. The girls knew how to handle weapons, but YN had stressed that lethal force was only to be used if their lives were in danger. 

Having a dozen adorable thieves roaming the streets of Kiev had eventually brought in enough money for them to afford the rent on a small two-bedroom apartment. YN had saved up for years to be able to purchase false identities for her young charges, and once they all had legitimate-looking papers, she'd insisted they all get a proper education. They'd been heartbroken to be split up between different schools, but one young woman raising a dozen orphaned girls would have raised too many questions.

YN had gone back and forth on whether or not she should contact S.H.I.E.L.D. If it had just been her, she'd have found the nearest agent and turned herself in, but she had the girls to think about. There was a part of her that didn't trust any organization, and if she were being honest with herself, she couldn't imagine her life without her angels.

As the years passed by in a blur, the girls continued to grow into capable young women right before YN's eyes. With her angels by her side, she'd branched out into the mercenary-for-hire business, but they'd only accepted cases where taking someone's life meant saving an innocent person. Which is how they'd ended up on a deserted road on the outskirts of Odessa one fateful night.

"Why are we out here freezing our assess off again?" Arina asked snarkily through the comms.

YN shook her head and smiled. Out of all the girls, Arina was the most outspoken, but she was also YN's favorite. "We were hired to ensure that a nuclear engineer makes it out of the country alive. Now hush and keep an eye out for the car—and anyone else who's not supposed to be here."

YN had set the girls up along the lonely stretch of road at two kilometer intervals. Between the thirteen of them they could cover the stretch of road from Odessa to the Moldova border. Each one of them was equipped with a high-powered rifle and she trusted every one of her girls to do their job just like she'd taught them.

"I've got headlights coming up the mountain," Nadya whispered.

"Steady," YN cautioned as she looked through the scope of her rifle to see the approaching vehicle.

None of them heard the shot, but the sound of one of the tires blowing had them all racing from their perches to the motorcycles they'd left hidden in the brush off the side of the road.

"Shots fired," YN said quietly. "There's someone else out here, so be careful ladies."

Nadya had stayed in position and had begun to search for the hidden assailant. She was pretty sure the sniper was on the same ridge as her, but just further down the mountain from the trajectory of the shot he'd fired. Her finger hovered over the trigger as she frantically looked for any signs of the assassin.

"Do you have eyes on him yet, Nadya?" YN asked as her bike roared to life and she sped down the curvy mountain road.

Another tire was shot out, but Nadya couldn't see the sniper. "Negative. The car has taken another hit, but this guy is good. Not as good as that driver, but he's got skills."

"Stay in position and take a shot if you get one," YN ordered as some of the other girls caught up to her on their bikes.

"Copy that," Nadya said as a flash of movement caught her. "Oh, shit."

"What is it?" YN asked as she cursed the curves in the road that forced her to keep the bike at a reasonable speed. "Have you found the sniper."

"It's him, YN."

She didn't need Nadya to explain any further—she knew exactly who they were up against. She had no idea how he'd survived the fire, but somehow he had and now she would potentially come face to face with the man that had haunted her dreams for the last few years.

"Do not engage unless you have a kill shot, do you understand?"

"Affirmative," Nadya said with a shaky breath. "I don't have a death wish."

The Winter Soldier shot out the remaining tires on the car, but Nadya still didn't have a shot. The only time she'd seen him was that brief flash when the the light of the moon had momentarily reflected off the silver prosthetic that had replaced his severed arm. To her horror, the driver of the car lost control and began careening over the cliffside.

"The car just went over the cliff," Nadya informed them. "I've got to go help them."

"No," YN ordered as she rounded the last turn. "I'm here with Arina, Yasemin, and Sonya. You stay in position and cover us while we see to the passengers in the car. The rest of the girls should be here soon."

Nadya hated being left out of the action, but she knew her position was vital, so she did as she'd been ordered to do. Through her scope, she gave cover to YN and the others. She hadn't seen a fireball erupting from the ravine, so there was still hope that the occupants of the car had survived the crash.

YN dismounted and reached for the rifle she'd slung over her back. The three girls with her did the same as they began to stalk through the shadows along the edge of the cliff. She could see the hole in the guardrail where the car had gone off the road up ahead, so she began her decent to the ravine below a few dozens yards ahead of the crash site. She had no desire to accidentally run into the Soldier on her way to the people she'd been hired to protect.

She wanted to ask Nadya if she'd seen the Soldier, but it was imperative that she and the girls stay as quiet as possible. He had to know that he wasn't alone, but there was no sense in alerting him to their presence before she was ready to do so.

The sound of a woman screaming in pain had YN throwing caution to the wind. The Soldier was already at his target, and if YN didn't hurry, both the scientist and his driver would be dead before she could stop him.

As she burst through the thick underbrush, she saw him. Whereas she'd aged over time, somehow he looked exactly as he had all those years ago. It was like seeing a ghost, but she didn't have time to dwell on the past. Raising her shoulder, she positioned her rifle and took a shot.

His reflexes were just as quick as she remembered and he easily blocked the bullet with his metal hand. The girls with her opened fire, but he'd been ready for them. Ducking behind the car for cover, he slipped through the brush and disappeared.

"Do you want me to go after him?" Arina asked hopefully.

"No," YN ordered sharply. "Nadya. He's heading your way. Keep cover on us while we check on the passengers."

"We're here too," Panya announced as she and the other girls arrived from their posts a few kilometers up the mountain.

YN let Arina coordinate the other girls while she crept closer to the wreckage of the car. As she rounded the front bumper she came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"Who are you?"

YN carefully assessed the other woman and saw that she had a nasty bullet wound to her lower abdomen. Lowering her rifle, she held up her hands in a non-threatening gesture. "We're here to help. Where's the scientist?"

The wounded woman narrowed her eyes as she furtively glanced at the other three women cautiously approaching the car. "He's dead."

YN nodded her head. "The Soldier shot him through you, didn't he?"

"How do you know the Winter Soldier?"

"He trained me in the Red Room just like he did you, Natalia Romanova," YN said with a smirk.

Natasha took a moment to assess this new information. "You're the Malevolent Angels, aren't you? The rogue girls that burnt down the Red Room?" 

YN smiled. "Is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. calls us?"

"They've been looking for you for a while," Natasha said as she lowered her gun and pressed a hand to her wound.

"That's funny since they were the ones that hired us for this job," Arina said as she propped a hip against the wrecked car.

"Fury," Natasha said with a curse. "That son of a bitch."

Meeting Natalia Romanova as she bled out from a bullet to the gut wasn't the way YN had always envisioned her first encounter with the woman that had inspired her to break free of her bonds. But it wasn't so far out of the realm of possibilities that it seemed improbable. In their line of work, bullets were a daily hazard and death always seemed to waiting for them around every corner.

YN and the girls had helped Nat out of the ravine and waited with her until S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived. YN could see the girls getting antsy around all the armed agents, but she figured her time training them had come to an end. She'd always thought she'd seek out S.H.I.E.L.D. when she'd left the Red Room, but her allegiance to the girls had made her wary of the organization. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to give her girls the lives they deserved.

Director Fury was a formidable man, but he'd recognized the raw potential her young charges held and had seemed eager to bring them into the fold. She'd made it clear that the girls were old enough to make their own choice, and shockingly enough, he'd agreed.

It had been heartbreaking for YN to say goodbye to the young women she'd helped raise and train, but she knew a better life than the one she'd been able to provide awaited them in America. She plastered on a smile and wished them all well, but deep down she wasn't sure how she would survive without them. She'd drilled it into their heads that they had to look out for themselves above all else, but she'd failed to heed her own advice. Caring for the girls had become her entire life, and now she felt lost without them. There was still a possibility she'd run into them at some point in the future, and she held onto that hope as she watched them board the plane to take them to the Academy for further training.

Fury had been hesitant to assign Natalia—now Natasha—as her point of contact, but the former Red Room agent had insisted that she was the best person to help YN adjust to life on the straight and narrow. YN had been glad Natasha had fought so hard for her, and it increased her admiration of the other woman greatly.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't like the KGB," Natasha said as she drove through the streets of D.C. toward the apartment S.H.I.E.L.D. had set up for YN.

"I would hope not."

Natasha smiled. "I like you. You remind me of someone."

"You perhaps?" YN asked hopefully. "Or at least the girl you once were."

Natasha narrowed her eyes and considered YN's observation. "You really burned the place to the ground."

An evil glint flashed in YN's eyes. "Right after I killed that bitch."

Natasha's face was an unreadable mask, but her eyes would sometimes give away her true emotions. YN saw a hint of something in the green depths, but she wasn't sure if it was pride, or envy.

"How'd you get past the Soldier?" Natasha asked. 

"He has a kill switch," YN said with a shrug. "The Mistress got careless one day and left out his file."

Natasha glanced over and studied YN for a moment. "You didn't use it that night in Odessa."

YN made a derisive sound. "His handlers aren't stupid. They would've figured out what I did and either removed it or changed it."

"Smart and lethal. I'm really starting to like you."

YN smiled as the other woman pulled the car up to the curb and shut it off. "Is this it?"

Natasha exited the car and stood on the sidewalk with YN as they looked up at the old brick apartment building. "It's not much, but. . ."

"It has to be better than what I'm used to," YN interrupted.

Natasha started to say something, but changed her mind. "Let's get you settled in." She opened the door with the key before passing it over to YN. "I took the liberty of doing some shopping for you. If there's anything you want to change, don't feel like you're offending me."

YN followed Natasha up the wooden staircase to the third floor and then on to the second door on the right. She used the key Natasha had given her to open the wooden door with the number 303 nailed to the front. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it definitely wasn't what lay before her.

It was a small space—one bedroom, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a combination living and dining area. The apartment was already furnished and most of the furniture looked to be brand new. In all of her life, she'd never owned anything new—not even the clothes on her back.

"I. . .I'm not. . .I don't know what to say."

"I get it," Natasha said as she laid a hand on YN's shoulder. "I remember what it was like when I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. After years of living in the Red Room, it's almost impossible to imagine something like this." She paused for a moment. "Not to mention all the years you holed up with the girls. That couldn't have been easy."

"I couldn't leave them behind," YN told her. "They were so young and still so innocent. I hated killing the others, but they were already indoctrinated. My girls still had a chance and I owed them that—I owed it to myself. I needed to prove that I could give us all a better life."

YN walked around her new home and randomly picked up items she assumed Natasha had purchased herself. It wasn't overly fussy, but it was cozy.

"Thank you for this, Natasha."

"Call me Nat."

"Nat," YN repeated with a smile. "So, what now?"

"For now, Fury just wants you to get used to the city," Nat explained. "There's a little shopping center down the block." She grabbed a leather wallet off the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. "You have cash, a checking account, and a credit card, so you can buy whatever you want. I'm still on the mend from the gunshot, so it'll be about a week before I'm ready to get back in the field. Once I'm cleared by medical, you'll be shadowing me until we're sure you can handle yourself."

"You don't think I know how to handle myself?" YN asked with a skeptical look.

Nat held up her hands. "That's not my call." She sighed as her lips turned up in a smirk. "I think they just want to make sure you're not going to go rogue on them."

YN shrugged. "I can't say I blame them."

"Is there anything you need right now?"

"No." YN shook her head as her gaze flitted over her new surroundings. "I'll be fine on my own."

Nat laid down the wallet and picked up the phone that had been lying beside it. "My number is in here. Call or text if you need me—I don't live too far away."

YN thanked Nat again and showed her out. Once she was gone, YN turned all the locks on the door and put the chain in place. It was flimsy security, but she was sure she'd be able to find a hardware store somewhere in the neighborhood so she could rectify that problem.

For the first time in her entire life, she was alone. She knew she'd eventually get used to it, but at the moment it was as foreign to her as the country she'd found herself in. Walking over to the window, she parted the curtains and looked down to the street below. While it wasn't the cleanest, it was a hundred times better than the streets of Kiev.

This was the life she'd always dreamed about, but something didn't feel right to her. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of female chatter, or the quiet street outside, but she knew something was off. It wasn't until she'd turned down the covers and crawled into bed that she'd figured it out. 

Freedom.

For as long as she could remember, she'd always wanted to be free of the Red Room. As much as she'd loved her girls, they'd been a constant reminder of the life she'd been forced to live for far too long. She didn't regret a single day spent with them, but now she was finally living the life she'd always dreamed of. Her ties to S.H.I.E.L.D. weren't set in stone, and there was something comforting about knowing that if she chose to, she could leave the organization and live any life she chose to. Not that she would. She'd been born a fighter, and she would die one as well. But at least now she knew what she was fighting for and there was honor in knowing that she could make a difference in the world using the skills she'd gained from the people she'd spent her entire life hating.

America had always been her dream, but she'd never truly thought she'd live to see it realized. As she burrowed deep within the down comforter, she allowed herself to breath a sigh of relief. 

She'd made it.

YN knocked lightly on the open door of the director's office and waited for the imposing man to acknowledge her.

"Come in, Agent YLN," Fury said as he glanced up from his computer and saw the former-KGB agent waiting patiently for him to invite her in. 

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he saw the way she carried herself these days. Those first few weeks after she'd joined S.H.I.E.L.D. had been a bit overwhelming for the young woman, and she'd looked as though she was ready to stab every agent that brushed past her in the halls. Now, she was as assured of herself as she'd been with her girls in Kiev. 

He'd kept an eye on her after she'd burned Natasha's former training center to the ground in the hopes that she would follow in the other woman's footsteps. Natasha had all but demanded he allow her to go back to the Academy where she'd trained so she could dismantle it herself, but the World Security Council had nixed the idea for some reason. He'd hope his old friend, Alexander Pierce, would weigh in on the matter, but Pierce had rambled on about politics and "keeping an eye on the Russians" to explain his inaction.

Now it didn't matter. He had over a dozen of the finest trained Russian assassins working for him, and the world had never been a safer place.

But Nick Fury wasn't content to worry about the here and now. His eye was permanently fixed on the what if's the future held. He'd seen a glimpse of what was out there, and while others might not be as worried as he was, he was doing his best to prepare the world for whatever the universe might throw at them next.

"Please have a seat," Fury said when it became clear that YN planned to stand for the entire meeting.

She gave him a curt nod and sat in one of the visitor's chairs in front of his desk. Almost immediately, an orange ball of fur leapt through the air and landed on her lap. The smile on YN's face was impossible to hide.

"Hello, Goose," she cooed as she rubbed the cat behind the ear. "How ya been, girlie? Fury still treating you okay?"

"That cat is the most spoiled creature on the planet," Fury said with a frown as he watched the way the animal rubbed it's head against YN's hand and purred as loudly as a jet engine. Goose wasn't known to warm up to just anyone, so it had been a shock when she'd taken to YN as quickly as she had. He'd learned over the years that Goose was a better judge of character than most of his agents.

"And whenever you're ready to let her come live with me," YN continued as she continued to stroke Goose's soft fur, "I promise she'll continue to be spoiled."

"I may take you up on that one of these day," Fury mumbled as he glared at the cat with his one good eye. "She's eating me out of house and home." He had a brief flash of the deer she'd devoured that morning in one gulp and shuddered involuntarily. "Anyway, back to business. I called you here today because I have a new mission for you."

As though Goose knew playtime was over, she hopped down and went back to her bed to clean herself. YN was sad to see her go—she'd always wanted a pet growing up, but she'd never been in a stable enough environment to have one. Goose was the closest thing she'd probably ever get.

Brushing the cat hairs off her uniform, she gave the Director an interested look. "What kind of mission, sir?"

"One I think you'll be very interested in."

"With Agent Romanoff?"

Fury shook his head. "No, Agent Romanoff is going on a deep undercover mission for the next few months."

"I can do deep undercover," YN offered hopefully.

"I'm sure you could," Fury agreed with a smile. "But her target is a bit eccentric and unpredictable. Nat's used to dealing with the playboys, so I'm not the least bit worried about her. But you. . ." He paused and gave her a knowing look. "You'd kick his ass and blow your cover wide open the first time he made a pass at you."

YN considered Fury's assessment of her and couldn't argue. "Point taken, sir. So, what's my mission?"

"You'll be teaming up with Agent Barton and a few familiar faces for this one," he said as he slid the folder toward her.

She opened the cover and began to flip through the pages. Her target was an arms dealer in Africa that had gotten on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar in a bad way—just the kind of man YN loved to bring to heel. She nodded her head and looked back up at the director. "When do we leave?"

"You and Agent Barton will meet up with the rest of your team this afternoon," he told her as he rose and led her toward the door. "There's a jet waiting for you at an airfield outside the city—Barton has the coordinates."

YN nodded her head and thanked the Director before heading out. She needed to stop by the armory and load up on the supplies she'd need for the mission before meeting Agent Barton. She'd never worked with him before, but Nat had spoken highly of him.

Barton had met her in the armory as he was stocking up on extra arrows. From there, they'd taken a S.H.I.E.L.D. transport to the airfield to meet the rest of their team. YN was pleasantly surprised to see Arina, Nadya, Yasemin, and Sonya waiting for them by the jet. She ignored the watchful eyes of her newest partner as she and her girls shared hugs and quickly recounted stories of their adventures so far.

"There'll be plenty of time to catch up on the plane, ladies," Barton interrupted as he began ushering them toward the jet. As the five women continued to chatter in rapid-fire Russian as they boarded the plane, Barton looked up at the sky and muttered, "Lord, help me."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?" Nat asked as she and Fury stood off in the distance and watched the reunion through high-powered binoculars.

"She's good enough agent with you by her side," Fury stated with a sigh, "but she's not as effective as she was before we brought her in. Putting the Angels back together is our best bet to ensure they stay with us instead of going back out on their own." He looked back at the group of young women laughing and hugging. "I want to see what they can do after their training at the Academy before I make it official, though."

"And Barton?"

"Don't worry," Fury assured her. "He's just there to observe. Once he signs off on them, I'll bring in the other girls and they'll run missions under YN's command like they did in Kiev."

"Except S.H.I.E.L.D. will be calling the shots," Nat mused aloud. "Was that your plan all along?"

Nick gave her a questioning look. "What makes you think I had a plan?"

Nat smirked and shook her head. "If you don't have a plan, then why I am heading to Malibu tomorrow?"

He chuckled. "Maybe I just want to see the look on Stark's face when you mop the floor with his overly-inflated ego."

"That can be arranged," Nat said with her usual deadpan tone. "And it would be entirely my pleasure, sir."

"Hold that thought, Romanoff. He might prove useful to us—you never know."

She looked down at the group of young women boarding the plane. Whenever she looked at YN, it as though she was looking in a mirror. If it hadn't been for Barton, she didn't know what would've happened to her, but she liked to think that she would've eventually acted exactly as her young protégé had had and burnt the place to the ground herself. For years after she'd left the KGB, she'd thought she was the only woman that had come out of the Red Room with anything left of the girl she'd once been, but she'd been wrong. The proof of that was getting on a jet to take out an arms dealer and she'd never been more happy to be wrong in her life.

"You're right," she agreed with Fury. "You never know what people are truly capable of until you give them a chance. Let's just hope you're two-for-two on this go-round."

Fury watched as the jet took off before answering. "I have to be right, Romanoff—the world depends on it."

Since her mission under the watchful eyes of Agent Barton, YN had been reassigned back to Eastern Europe. She'd enjoyed her stay in America—as had her girls—but being S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on what felt like their home turf was a better fit for all of them.

Fury had cautioned her against using all of the girls, like she had in the Ukraine, because they drew too much attention to themselves. It wasn't their fault—they couldn't help walking into a room and turning every eye in the place. Between their beauty and the aura of strength that radiated off of them like a strong perfume, they were impossible to ignore. 

YN had found that using only four or five of them at a time made it easier for them to blend into the background. She hated picking and choosing, so she'd been forced to devise a system. Using the profiles that S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided her, she ranked the girls based on their strengths and weaknesses. She'd had a mental file of the same information before she'd completely defected, but it was nice to know that her original assessments of the girls was spot on.

Based on the missions Fury assigned them, she'd choose the girls with the skills needed to complete the objective with as little fuss as possible. So far, she'd yet to hear a single complaint, and they'd never failed to bring in the results S.H.I.E.L.D. required.

As she stared at the secure e-mail she'd just gotten from the Director, she began to run through the list of girls to figure out which ones would be most effective for the mission. Fury wanted them to attend a gala being held at the American Embassy in Rome and obtain a cloned copy of the Russian Ambassador's cell phone. She wasn't privy to what type of information was stored on the cell phone—her job was to get in, clone the phone, and get out without anyone noticing.

The main operation would be completed by herself, since she had the most experience and could easily seduce the Russian Ambassador. Part of the Red Room training had focused on seduction tactics, but she'd refrained from passing on most of her instruction to her Angels. They knew the basics, but she'd been hesitant to teach them the rest. She'd been fortunate in her career with the Russians to get her targets drunk enough to pass out before she'd had to finish the seduction, and she could only hope the same would hold true for the rest of her career.

YN knew she'd need someone familiar with the streets of Rome to drive her to and from the Embassy. She opened Svetlana's file on her computer and researched a mission she'd completed in Rome with Agent Melinda May. The two agents had been tasked with tailing a foreign operative suspected of terrorism while he was visiting the city, so YN was confident that Svetlana would be the perfect choice to navigate the complicated road system with it's restricted pedestrian zones.

Her next task was to pick a woman to work the inside. Zinaida had once successfully infiltrated a foreign embassy as a member of the kitchen staff for six weeks, so it stood to reason that she would be able to blend in with the catering staff. Her job would be to circulate throughout the room and act as their courier.

Duscha was a genius with technology, so she was the obvious choice to handle the technical details of the operation. YN had noticed her young charge's aptitude with technology early on and had greatly encouraged her to learn as much as she could. S.H.I.E.L.D. had seen the same potential, and had sent Duscha off for specialized training once she'd finished the basic Academy instruction.

The key to the whole operation was causing a distraction so the Ambassador's security detail would be paying more attention to something other than the head of the Russian Embassy. That's where Galina came into play. With striking red hair and a figure that brought tears to men's eyes, she could successfully distract any man—and some women—with nothing more than a flick of her wrist. YN planned to be the first distraction the Ambassador had to deal with, but Galina would be the icing on the cake. The old Russian would take one look at the young red-head and pay no attention to the other woman by his side.

Having a set of eyes surveil the Embassy while she and the other girls were otherwise occupied fell to Valya. When she'd been a child, she'd learned the streets of Kiev faster than any of the other girls and could spot marks and tails easier than anyone YN had ever met. Having Valya watching their backs would mean YN and the other girls could concentrate on doing their jobs. 

Just like every other mission the Malevolent Angels completed, the Italian job went off without a hitch. Sveltlana deposited YN in front of the Embassy right on time and as she made her entrance, she immediately caught the attention of the Russian Ambassador. Zinaida was already making her rounds with a tray of champagne, but YN didn't even meet her eye as she grabbed a glass and began scoping out the room.

She spotted Duscha in a voluminous black dress that would hide the signal boosting tech they would need to ensure they could clone the Ambassador's phone as quickly as possible. Zinaida had smuggled the tech in through the kitchen and had surreptitiously passed each component to Duscha as she made her rounds throughout the room. If everything was going as planned, Duscha would have every piece she needed to assemble the signal booster within the next twenty minutes. She would then slip into the bathroom to put it together before hiding it beneath her dress and returning to her position near the Ambassador.

While YN waited for Zinaida to finish her job, she needed to get close to the Ambassador. Wearing a low-cut dress that clung to every curve, she sauntered over to the old KGB officer and began speaking to him in Russian. She'd completed extensive research on the Ambassador, and with the help of a CIA operative who'd been running a mole deep with the new Russian intelligence agency, she knew enough about the Ambassador to hold a conversation with him about a mutual friend.

When YN dropped Kapralov's name, the Ambassador's interest was immediately piqued. He'd grown up with Ivan Kapralov and was thrilled to meet his niece so he could learn how his old friend was doing. YN knew it didn't hurt that she was a beautiful woman in a sea of tired, old diplomats and their wives. 

As she chatted up the Ambassador, she kept a watchful eye on Zinaida and Duscha, and when she saw the latter heading to the bathroom, she knew it was almost time. Her eyes scanned the room and she saw a brief commotion near the front entrance. Right on cue, Valya announced over the comms that Galina was walking up the stairs and drawing the attention of everyone near the front entrance. By the time she reached the ballroom, Duscha would be out of the bathroom and back in position and the Ambassador and his security detail would be so distracted by the voluptuous young woman that YN would be able to slip his phone from his inside coat pocket and hand it off to Zinaida without anyone noticing.

Duscha exited the bathroom and twisted the ring on her right pinky to signal YN that she was ready. YN looked to the front entrance as everyone's head turned in the same direction. The Ambassador looked as well, and YN was pleased to see his mouth drop open slightly when he saw Galina. 

YN laid a hand on the Ambassador's chest and tried to draw his attention back to her. "As I was saying, Uncle Ivan has just purchased a new house. . ."

She continued rambling on about her fictitious uncle as she palmed the phone and slipped it into Zinaida's pocket as she passed by with another tray of champagne. Zinaida made her way toward Duscha who retrieved the phone and began the cloning process. Galina was doing her best to keep every eye in the room on her while Valya kept them updated on the comings and goings outside of the Embassy.

Zinaida turned near the front entrance and began retracing her steps. YN wasn't the least bit nervous as she saw Duscha pass the Ambassador's phone back to Zinaida out of the corner of her eye. When the young waitress passed by in front of her again, she reached for a glass of champagne with one hand while the other retrieved the phone from Zinaida's pocket.

Galina was still sauntering across the room in her emerald green dress, but just as YN hoped, the Ambassador nodded to one of his security detail and the Russian went to retrieve Galina for the Ambassador. YN moved so that she was now in the Ambassador's line of vision. She smiled at him and slipped the phone back into his pocket as she pretended to admire his suit. He gave her an annoyed look and tried brushing her aside. YN allowed him to do so and in turn, used her momentum to slosh champagne all over Galina's dress as she walked beside her.

"Oh, my," YN said as she covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you get cleaned up."

YN grabbed Galina's hand and dragged her toward the bathroom. The whole encounter had happened so fast, the Ambassador hadn't had time to object. 

While Galina and YN had been busy getting away from the Ambassador, Duscha had slipped into the bathroom again to change into a catering uniform. She passed two other uniforms to YN and Galina and they quickly went into the bathroom to change. Once all four of them were in their disguises, they headed back toward the kitchen. In the hustle and bustle, they slipped through the noisy kitchen and out the back door to where Svetlana now waited in a van with the cater's logo plastered to the side. They climbed into the back of the van and found Valya already waiting for them.

"Everything go as planned inside?" Valya asked as she began eating canapés off the the silver platter she'd swiped from the kitchen while she'd been waiting for them to exit the building.

YN looked to Duscha who nodded. "Another successful mission for the books."

"Fury will be pleased," Zinaida said with a smile as she grabbed a canapé and popped it into her mouth.

Galina grabbed a canapé as well. "That was fun. We should do it again sometime."

"You just like wearing the slutty dresses," Svetlana said from the front seat. "I never get to wear the slutty dresses."

"Maybe if you had boobs," Duscha teased.

"Girls." YN gave them a chastising look, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face. "Once we deliver the goods to Fury, we'll all put on slutty dresses and go out. How's that sound?"

"All of us?" Svetlana asked suspiciously. "Won't that cause a scene?"

"We'll pretend to be a bachelorette party and go to Amsterdam tomorrow night," YN suggested. "No one thinks twice about a group of beautiful women if one of them is wearing a Bride-To-Be sash and a tiara."

"Who's going to be the bride?" Valya asked. "I want to be the bride. They get the most lap dances from the strippers."

"Who said anything about strippers?" Zinaida asked with a disgusted look on her face.

YN shook her head and let them argue over the details. It didn't matter to her who pretended to be the bride, she was just anxious for a night out with her girls. Even Fury couldn't object to them letting off a little steam after months of endless missions. And if he did, he'd just have to get over it. They'd come a long way from the Red Room and they deserved to live a little.

Thoughts of the Red Room filled her mind and YN couldn't help but wonder about the Soldier. It had been a long time since she'd thought of him. He'd never been given the opportunity to live his life—it had been an endless stream of missions and training with his only reprieve coming from a cryogenic chamber. She'd given her girls the best life possible, but that had been denied to him. The guilt of what she'd done to him still haunted her. Her girls hadn't been the only innocent victims in that wretched place, but instead of saving him, she'd left him to die.

Only he hadn't died. 

He was still out there somewhere working behind the scenes. YN knew she'd run into him again somewhere down the line, but she wasn't anxious to come face to face with the man that had trained her. If she ever did see him again, she knew her overly-soft heart would want to save him instead of killing him—but at what cost to her?

YN was used to getting secure e-mails from the Director, but when he showed up at her headquarters in Kiev, she knew he hadn't come with a simple mission.

"Do you remember the job you and the girls pulled off at the American Embassy in Italy last year?" he asked after they'd exchanged pleasantries and he'd taken a seat in front of her desk.

YN's eyes narrowed. "Of course. We pulled that off without a hitch, if I recall correctly."

He held up a hand. "The job itself was perfect. . ."

"Then what seems to be the problem?"

"Ivan Kapralov," Fury said with a sigh.

"I don't understand. I pretended to be his niece to get close to the Russian Ambassador. . ."

"And then the Ambassador went home for a funeral a few weeks later and ran into his old buddy Ivan," Fury explained. 

"He figured out that I wasn't Kapralov's niece," YN surmised with a heavy sigh. "The CIA asset?"

Fury nodded. "Kapralov and the Ambassador put their heads together and we believe they've figured out who the CIA mole is."

YN sat back in her chair and studied Fury's face. "What's the plan? We go in and get the mole out of Russia?"

"That's the best case scenario." Fury leaned forward. "If they get to the CIA asset before you do, he's dead."

"He's that important to the CIA?"

"Every Russian mole is important to the CIA," Fury countered. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. is the one that put this man's life on the line, so it's up to us to make sure he doesn't end up paying for that favor with his life."

"How do you want me to proceed?"

"You're okay with going back to Russia?"

YN's face was a blank mask, but inside her emotions were in turmoil. She hadn't returned to Russia since she'd escaped the Red Room, but she knew she'd do what was expected of her. She and her girls were highly trained and could handle anything—even if it included a trip back home.

"I'm assuming you'll want me to lead this operation," YN said as she pointedly ignored his question. "I'm thinking Svetlana to handle ground transportation, Valya and Nadya to act as the lookout and the sniper—if one's required. . .

"The CIA asset will be attending a wedding," Fury interjected.

YN accounted for the new information and immediately altered her initial plan. "Then I'll want Zinaida undercover with the kitchen staff."

"Anyone else?"

Thinking for a moment, YN mentally reviewed the strengths of her girls. "If things go as planned, we'll need a way out of the country. Sonya is an excellent pilot, but it would be nice to have one of the Quinjets so we can fly under the radar."

"Whatever you feel is necessary," Fury agreed as he began texting on his phone. "The wedding is in three weeks, so I want to go ahead and get you all in place before then—it'll look less suspicious. I'll arrange to have Zinaida hired on at the restaurant, and you'll be added as a wedding guest."

"Will the Ambassador be there?"

Fury shook his head. "No, he's back in Rome and he'll want to be as far away from this as possible so as to not draw attention to his involvement in the assassination attempt."

YN nodded her head as she rose and walked to a safe situated in the wall behind her desk. She opened it and riffled through the stack of fake passports before pulling out one and opening it with a smirk. "I'm going to use the Raina Pavlovna alias since she's never been accused of an international crime."

"Raina Pavlovna," Fury repeated as he typed the name into his phone. "I'll have my CIA contact take care of the arrangements. You'll have your plane ticket and travel itinerary within the week." He rose and his mouth formed a hard line. "I can't stress enough that we need Magomedtagirov out of Russia alive."

A hard knot formed in YN's gut. "Adilgerei Magomedtagirov? The Russian general?"

"You know him?"

"How sure are you that he's not a double-agent?"

Fury didn't like the look on YN's face. "He's given the CIA a lot of good intel over the years. Why would you think he was a double-agent?"

"Because he was one of the generals in charge of the Red Room," YN said as her eyes narrowed.

It only took a minute for Fury to connect the dots. "He defected shortly after you burned it to the ground."

"I doubt it was because he grew a conscience," YN all but spat as rage began to burn through her veins. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least to learn that the CIA put the screws to him over his involvement with the Red Room. He may be an informant, but that's only because the CIA most likely offered to protect him in some way for my betrayal."

Fury could see her anger starting to boil over and worried that it would impede her judgement. "Would you prefer it if I gave this job to another team?"

YN shook her head and forced her face back into a neutral expression. "I can put my personal feelings aside, Director Fury."

"Then I'll start working on the details and have the proper documentation sent to you later this week."

With a nod, YN showed the Director out and then went back to her desk. There were many people in Russia that had either knowingly, or unknowingly, supported the Red Room Academy, and while she'd dreamed of making them all pay, she hadn't really thought she'd get the opportunity. She knew Fury was counting on her to get the General out of Russia alive, but there was a part of her wouldn't be upset if this mission turned out to be a failure.

Fury was true to his word, and within a week, she had all the documents she'd need to cross the Russian border with no red flags. She staggered the girls, having each of them enter the country a few days apart so as to not raise suspicions. Fury had set up a safe house for Valya and Nadya, but Svetlana and Zinaida were renting rooms close to Makhachkala so they could begin work with the limo company and the restaurant. YN would be flying out two days before the wedding and staying in a hotel near the restaurant. Zinaida would pick her up at the hotel and take her to the restaurant to ensure she arrived safely. Sonya wouldn't be joining them until the day of the wedding, though. The plan was to have her touching down in a field a hundred yards from the restaurant while all the guests were inside eating, so they could sneak the General out the back door before the Russian's suspected a thing.

YN was so used to everything going exactly as she planned, and she never dreamed the Russian's would be able to outsmart her, but they threw in the one variable she hadn't accounted for.

The Winter Soldier.

The plan was already in motion when Valya announced over the comms that there was a sniper on the roof of the building next to the restaurant. Nadya had seen him firsthand during the Op in Odessa, so she recognized him first.

YN had already approached the General and given him the signal to let him know that she was managing his escape, but he'd insisted on making the rounds of the restaurant so as to not raise suspicions. YN had cautioned against it, but he'd refused to listen to her. Now she watched as he and a small group of guests began to make their way to the front door.

"The General is heading outside," YN whispered into her comms.

"The jet is ready to go as soon as you all are ready," Sonya said.

"He's going out the front," YN snarled. "I'm too far away to stop him. Nadya, take out the Soldier before he gets a chance to shoot the General."

"Are you sure. . ." Nadya began.

"Do it," YN interrupted as she tried to push her way through the crowd to get to the General.

Just as she exited the restaurant, she heard the faint popping sound of a bullet being fired from a silenced weapon. Her eyes immediately went to the rooftop where the Soldier was supposed to be, and she was shocked to see him crouched behind the awning taking aim.

She heard shouts of alarm and looked over to see the General slumping to the ground. "Status?"

"I can't get a shot," Nadya said. "He took out the General."

"Dammit," YN muttered as she began yelling at the other guests to get back in the building. She pulled the small revolver from her thigh holster and fired off a few rounds toward the roof where the Soldier was. She saw the metallic gleam of his arm as he easily deflected the bullets and continued to shoot the guests trying to take cover.

Taking off at a run, she headed toward the fire escape at the edge of the building and began climbing to the rooftop. She knew she should be gathering her girls and heading toward the jet, but there was a part of her that felt like it was her duty to save the Soldier.

He'd already disassembled his rifle by the time she made it to the roof, but he drew up short when he saw her.

"Do you remember me, Soldat?" she asked as she held up a hand in a non-threatening way.

Instead of answering her, he pulled a knife from a sheath attached to his belt and threw it at her. It landed in her shoulder and she fell to her knees. He hadn't hit any vital organs, but he'd made it impossible for her to raise her gun to shoot him. 

As she tried to stay conscious through the pain, she saw him walk past her toward the fire escape. She looked up at him as he passed, but he didn't spare her a glance.

"YN?" Sonya called out through the comms. "Are you okay? Where's the General?"

"Abort the mission," YN said as she gritted her teeth in pain. "The General is dead, and the Soldier is in the wind. Everyone meet at the jet so we can get the hell out of here."

"Are you injured?" Valya asked.

YN struggled to her feet and then stumbled to the fire escape. "Nothing I can't handle."

As she lie on the bench and let Zinaida tend to her wound while Sonya flew them out of Russia, she thought about the failed mission. It wasn't so much that they'd been unable to save the General, but more so the fact that she'd yet again been unable to stop the Soldier. She didn't know why she felt responsible for him, but she knew she'd never be able to rest until she saved him like she had the girls. She'd been given the perfect opportunity to do that, but just like all the other times, she'd let it slip through her fingers again.

Reckless.

YN had seen that word written on only a few performance evaluations she'd received while she'd been an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. And everyone of those evaluations had one thing in common—The Winter Soldier. The reports never mentioned the Soldier explicitly because S.H.I.E.L.D. refused to believe he existed, but the reports spoke for themselves.

YN was only reckless when he was involved. She knew it was her own sense of guilt that made her throw caution to the wind whenever he showed up on an op, but it didn't negate the fact that he'd somehow turned into her Achilles' Heel.

Which is why she was in the mess she was in at the moment.

The man sitting on the threadbare loveseat in the shabby little apartment in Bucharest wasn't the same man that had trained her in the Red Room, but she was almost glad of that fact.

When she and the girls had learned the truth about HYDRA's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D., they'd immediately stepped into action. YN had dispersed them across the world to help assist the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that would be fighting to keep order in the cities in which they were stationed and they'd need all the help they could get.

YN owed Nick Fury her life, so she was bound and determined to do whatever was necessary to avenge his death. As she'd stood beside Nat and Rogers in the hospital watching Nick die, she'd shared a knowing look with the other graduate of the Red Room. Rogers had no idea who the Soldier was, but she and Nat knew exactly what they were up against.

She and Nat had spilt up to cover more ground, and YN had cursed herself for not being able to find the Soldier before he'd almost killed Rogers. But as she'd watched him pull the injured supersoldier from the Potomac, she'd known immediately that his conditioning was starting to fail. 

"YN?"

His voice had barely been more a whisper, but she'd seen the glint of recognition in his eyes for the briefest of moments. After a quick check on the Captain, she'd phoned in an anonymous tip and convinced the Soldier to let her get them someplace safe.

Knowing that HYDRA was hiding in every nook and cranny of every intelligence agency, YN had known she'd have to go underground if she had any hope of keeping him alive. It was stupid and reckless, but that was her M.O. when it came to James Barnes.

For years she'd refused to allow herself to think of him as the American soldier HYDRA had captured and tortured. Referring to him only by the name his captors had given him had allowed her to compartmentalize her guilt so she could sleep at night. But she'd known the moment he'd spoken her name that it was James standing in front of her and not the Soldier. 

He'd been beaten and bloody, so she'd found safe haven in an abandoned warehouse and tended to his wounds. The physical wounds had healed more quickly than she'd been prepared for, but it was the psychological scars that worried her the most. That was why when he'd told her he knew Captain Rogers—and she'd finally put the final piece of the puzzle into place—she'd been powerless to deny him the opportunity to learn more about who he was.

Reckless.

If Fury had ever found out that she'd taken the most wanted criminal in the world to a museum for a trip down memory lane, he'd have shot her on the spot for being so stupid. But James—or Bucky, as he liked to be called—had looked so lost and confused that she'd known she'd be powerless to deny him this one small concession before they left America.

Seeing the shattered look on his face as he'd wandered aimlessly through the Smithsonian exhibit on Captain America had almost broken her heart. But then he'd stumbled upon the memorial to Bucky Barnes and she'd watched the pain and confusion turn to anger.

Anger she could've deal with—fear not so much. She'd let her girls be afraid the night they'd escaped the Red Room, but as soon as they were safe, she'd spent years honing their skills so they'd never have to face that particular emotion ever again. She'd been prepared to coddle Bucky, but as she'd watched anger turn his eyes to steel and stiffen his spine, she'd realized she wouldn't have to after all.

Reckless.

With only the barest of essentials to get them by, they'd stowed away on a cargo ship heading to Europe. Every second they were stuck on a giant tin can floating in the middle of the Atlantic had been another second they could've been caught.

But they were both too well trained for that. The two of them had perfected the art of hiding in plain sight, so it was almost child's play to avoid the skeleton crew that manned the ship while still being able to steal the supplies they'd needed to survive.

With Fury dead, S.H.I.E.L.D. in tatters, and her Angels scattered all over the globe, she'd known some of her older haunts would be safe for the two of them. She had taken a solo job in Romania years before S.H.I.E.L.D. had found her, and the old woman whom she'd saved in the process still owed her a favor, so YN looked her up and convinced her to rent them a room in a run down apartment building.

Reckless.

YN knew that settling down in one spot was asking for trouble with a wanted fugitive, but she also knew that Bucky needed time to heal. She'd managed to make a semblance of a home for her girls in Kiev, so she could do it again for Bucky—even if every intelligence agency in the world wanted his head in their crosshairs.

She felt his eyes on her as she taped newspapers to the windows and doors in the tiny room they'd be sharing for the time being, but she didn't say a word. Bucky hadn't spoken much since they'd left America—choosing instead to write down all his thoughts in the little black and white composition books he'd picked up along the way.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked softly.

YN paused in her task and took a moment to let the shock fade from her face before she turned to him. "What? Covering the windows?" She was almost certain that wasn't what he was referring to, but she wanted to make sure before she started baring her soul to him.

He shook his head. "No, not the windows. Why are you helping me?"

She put down the newspapers and tape and walked over to the table. Grabbing a chair, she pulled it closer to him and sat so she could look him in the eye. "You needed help."

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he spoke again. "I hurt you. . ."

It took every ounce of her willpower not to reach out to him, and in the end she had to clench her hands into fist to stop herself from tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "That wasn't you."

"I remember it, though."

She saw the torment in his eyes and she felt a familiar feeling welling up within her again.

Reckless.

Going out and hunting down every single HYDRA agent she could find would be reckless.

Slowly and methodically torturing them to death for the part they'd played in Bucky's abuse would be reckless.

She wanted nothing more than to be reckless—to forget all her training and wreak havoc on everyone who'd played a part in HYDRA's machinations, but she couldn't. Being reckless wasn't an option for her anymore. She'd rescued the man that had haunted her dreams for most of her life, and she owed it to him to keep him safe until he was able to make it on his own.

"They used you, but it wasn't you," she told him as she stared deep into his eyes. She knew her words were most likely falling on deaf ears, but she hoped that the sincerity in her eyes would somehow make a difference to him.

"Where do I go from here?"

The anguished expression on his face reminded her of her girls when they'd first left Russia. He was like a child who'd lost his way and didn't know who to trust.

But he had her now, and she knew she'd do everything in her power to keep him safe.

"Right now, we're going to stay here," she told him as she gave him a weak smile.. "I know it's not much, but for the time being, this is going to be home."

"Home," he repeated with a nod.

His eyes met hers again and she saw something in them she hadn't seen before—trust. She swallowed hard as she realized this was going to be the most dangerous—but also the most important—mission of her life.

It had all happened so fast, YN hadn't been able to wrap her head around what was happening. One minute she and Bucky had been living their lives as peacefully as possible in Bucharest and the next his face had been plastered all over the news in every single country.

The entire world saw James Buchanan Barnes as the villain, but YN knew better. She knew he was the victim in all of this, but she didn't know how to prove it.

As she sat beside Bucky on King T'Challa's jet heading to some unknown country in Africa, she tried to figure out where it had all gone wrong. She saw the look on Steve's face and knew he was also struggling with the realization that they'd screwed up. As she replayed the events of the past few days she tried to isolate the instances in which she could've made a different choice and spared them all the heartache they'd just had to endure.

But it was useless.

Zemo had meticulously set up the board and they'd been nothing more than pawns. He'd studied them—knew exactly what moves they'd make—and had set events in motion that would ensure they acted true to form.

Inept.

There was a new word to describe herself, she thought to herself. All of her training, all of her experience, and she hadn't been able to outsmart one single man.

But she wasn't alone.

There was a whole team of the World's Mightiest Heroes hiding away licking their wounds. Some were in hospitals, some were on the run, and some were locked away on a floating prison in the middle of the Atlantic.

None of them were truly to blame, and yet none of them were blameless. They'd lost sight of their purpose, and now they were all paying for it.

"Where are we going, Steve?" Bucky asked, bringing both Steve and YN out of their melancholy thoughts.

Steve looked out the windshield of the jet and shook his head. "T'Challa put this on autopilot and told me he had someone waiting for us back in Wakanda."

T'Challa had stayed behind with Tony and Zemo to wait for the authorities. They had no idea what Tony would tell them, but T'Challa had assured them they'd be safe in his home country while he dealt with Zemo.

A tall, dark-skinned woman who looked like she ate nails for breakfast met them on the landing pad.

"I am Okoye—General of the King's Guard," she explained as she gestured to a teenaged girl with a huge smile on her face. "This is Princess Shuri—she will tend to your wounds and then I will show you to your rooms."

"Welcome to Wakanda," Shuri said as she gave Okoye a chastising look. "I apologize for Okoye. She's not the best when it comes to foreign relations." She motioned for them to follow her. 

YN gave Bucky and Steve a worried look as he tightened his grip on Bucky and started leading him in the direction the Princess was heading. Wakanda wasn't the war-torn, third-world country they'd been led to believe it was and they were a little skeptical of the fierce warrior and the exuberant girl that had made up their welcoming party. 

"We either trust them or spend the rest of our lives in an undersea prison," Steve muttered under his breath for only them to hear.

Bucky gave them both a worried look. "Maybe that's the best place for me."

She and Steve shared a glance and she was glad to see that he was on the same page as her. Bucky was the victim in all of this and he didn't need a prison cell—he needed help. She wasn't sure how much help a teenager would be, but at the moment she was all they had.

When they walked into Princess Shuri's lab, YN had to clench her teeth together to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. She'd seen S.H.I.E.L.D.'s labs, and had even had an opportunity to see one of Stark's, but this was the most sophisticated set-up she'd ever laid her eyes on.

"Would you please help Sergeant Barnes onto the table?" Shuri asked Steve as she pointed toward the large machine in the center of the room.

"What does this thing do?" Bucky asked as he warily eyed the unknown device.

"It's a regeneration module," Shuri explained as she walked up to the machine and tapped a control panel to bring up a holographic display. "It's a complicated process, but essentially it repairs and regenerates damaged tissue." She'd originally thought he was simply skeptical, but after a second glance, she realized the look in his eyes was fear. "It doesn't hurt, I promise."

"Whaddya say, Buck?" Steve asked. "It's totally your call."

Bucky looked to YN and she gave him a quick nod. He took a deep breath and gestured for Steve to help him to the table. He didn't like trusting new people, but his injuries were too severe for him to deal with on his own.

Shuri waited until Bucky was situated before carefully explaining each step of the process before she initiated the machine. In that moment, YN realized that while the girl's age might barely be in the double digits, she possessed an intellect that would rival both Stark and Banner put together.

While the machine did it's work on Bucky, Shuri turned her attention to the two of them. With a handheld device that looked like something out of Star Trek, she was able to heal their wounds in a matter of minutes.

"I've spoken to the King," Okoye announced as she walked into the lab. "He's on his way back as we speak." She glanced over to where Bucky was still in the regeneration module. "I can show you to your rooms now, or wait until after Sergeant Barnes has been tended to."

"It will be a few more hours before the regeneration process is complete," Shuri said. "You two should go with Okoye. She'll see that you're provided with clean clothes and something to eat."

YN cast a worried glance toward Bucky, but he was peacefully sleeping while the machine did it's work. She hated to leave him, but her instincts told her the people of Wakanda could be trusted. 

She shared a look with Steve, and with an almost imperceptible nod from him, they both thanked Shuri for her help and followed Okoye from the lab.

The palace was unlike anything YN had ever seen, and she'd once attended a party at the Avengers' Tower. The room Okoye had shown her to was the most luxurious space she'd ever been in and she almost hated to soil the bathroom with her filthy, blood-stained clothes. But the shower—with it's multitude of jets inset into the tiles walls—was too inviting for her to turn down.

As soon as she'd showered and changed, she went in search of Steve. The two of them needed a few moments alone without Bucky to come up with a plan. She knocked on his door and wasn't surprised when he opened it before she'd drawn her hand away.

He gestured for her to come in and shut the door behind her. "What are you thinking?"

"That this place is too good to be true."

He sighed and put his hands on his hips as his head dropped forward. "Can we trust them?"

"Do we have a choice?"

His gaze rose to meet hers and she saw the resigned look in his eyes. As much as they hated to rely on anyone but themselves, they were out of options at the moment.

"T'Challa made it sound like we can stay here for as long as we need." She waited for a moment to get a read on him, and she wasn't surprised when she saw the steely determination come over his features. "But you're not staying long, are you?"

"Those are innocent people in Ross' prison."

"And they're only there because you asked for their help," she finished for him, since she knew he didn't want to admit that part out loud. "I'm not saying I blame you for asking. In fact, I'm grateful. But you're right—they don't deserve to be there."

"You're staying here, though, aren't you?"

She nodded. "My priority has been and always will be Bucky."

He narrowed his gaze as he studied her. "What are you two to one another?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she vehemently shook her head.. "It's not what you're thinking. We're just. . ." Her words died on her lips as she tried to find the right word to describe her relationship with Bucky.

"Friends?" Steve asked.

"Something like that," she said since there was no easy way to describe the way she and Bucky had grown to depend on one another. To say they were friends didn't do justice to the bond that had developed between them. They were like two halves of the same coin, and after two years together, neither one of them knew if they'd be able to survive without the other.

A knock sounded on the door and Steve held a finger to his lips as he quietly slipped across the room to answer it. When he saw Okoye accompanied by a young man carrying two large trays, he stepped aside and let them in.

"When I didn't get an answer at Ms. YLN's door, I assumed she was with you," Okoye explained as she instructed the young man to place the trays on the table by the window. "Once you've eaten, ring for me and I'll take you back to the lab. The Princess has assured me that Sergeant Barnes will be finished by the time you've eaten your supper."

YN and Steve thanked her as she bowed and took her leave. As they ate, they discussed strategies for him to get on and off the Raft with his friends without being caught. By the time they'd finished, they'd come up with an almost-foolproof plan.

True to her word, Shuri had Bucky healed by the time they arrived back at the lab. He'd also showered and changed clothes. While he looked like his injuries were completely healed, there was a pained expression on his face that YN didn't like.

Bucky gave YN a tight smile and turned to Steve. "I've spoken with Shuri and she has a cryogenic chamber here in the lab."

YN wanted to say something—to stop him from making this decision—but she held her tongue. For the past two years, she'd made it a point to allow him to make all the decisions, and she wasn't about to stop now. It didn't matter that he was making the one choice that she wasn't sure she could handle, but she had to stand by him and support him regardless of how she felt about it.

Steve looked over his shoulder at the cyro chamber. "Are you sure about this?"

"I can't trust my own mind," Bucky said as he shot a quick glance toward YN and chuckled under his breath. She knew better than anyone how long he'd struggled to make sense of the jumbled mess HYDRA had left him with. "So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing." He paused and gave YN a long look before he turned back to his oldest friend. "For everybody."

There was a lump in YN's throat, so all she could do was lay a hand on his uninjured shoulder and nod.

"My team and I will be working around the clock to figure out how to undo the trigger words locked inside of Sergeant Barnes' mind," Shuri explained as a few of her assistants helped Bucky into the cryo chamber. "As soon as we've figured out the answer, we'll make sure his mind is his own again."

She and Steve stood back and watched as the lid of the cyro chamber slid down and Bucky closed his eyes. As the super-cooled air filled the chamber, she saw the smallest of smiles lift the corners of his lips and in that moment she knew he'd made the right decision.

"The King has arrived and would like to speak to you both," Okoye said after a few moments. "Please follow me."

YN cast one last glance at Bucky sleeping peacefully for the first time in two years and turned to follow Okoye and the Captain back to the palace.

They were shown to a large room with an entire wall of windows overlooking a deep valley shrouded in fog. It was eerily quiet in the room, so she and Steve chose to stand by the windows in silence as they waited for T'Challa.

The door opened behind them and they waited for the King to join them.

"Thank you for this," Steve said once T'Challa had made his way across the room.

"Your friend and my father—they were both victims," T'Challa said. "If I can help one of them find peace. . ."

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. Both she and Steve knew exactly what he meant.

"You know if they find out he's here, they'll come for him," Steve said.

YN felt her stomach drop at the prospect of going through the scene in Bucharest all over again. She knew she'd fight to her dying breath, but she wasn't so sure about Bucky. He was tired of fighting—tired of running—and she was scared of what would happen to him once he stopped.

T'Challa's expression became menacing. "Let them try."

For the first time since she'd arrived in the country, she felt hope that things would work out. T'Challa was a powerful man—a powerful King and warrior—and they just might stand a chance after all.

She looked out the window as the fog cleared. Sitting on the ridge across from the palace was a giant black panther carved out of what she could only assume was vibranium. The sculptor had carved it in mid-roar and YN felt a surge of power as she was reminded of her training in the Red Room. 

Failure was not an option. Not then, and certainly not now.

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_Author's Note: Thank you for reading Day 272 of my writing challenge. I hope you enjoyed it! Bucky was definitely the victim from the time he fell from that train to the end of Endgame, but there are still those (even within the fandom) that see him as a villain. I don't understand it, and I know none of you probably do as well. I think we can all relate to the Reader in these last two parts—she's willing to do anything and everything to protect Bucky Barnes. She claims they're only friends, or "two sides of the same coin" as she phrased it. Do you believe that, or do you think there's something more between them? I look forward to your comments, and if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging!_

As she and her Angels stood off to the side of the lake house and watched Stark's widow and child lay the wreath of flowers in the lake, YN felt numb.

For the third time in her life she felt as helpless as a child watching the world go by as she stood powerless to do anything to stop it. She hadn't been able to stop Zemo from tearing the Avengers apart, she hadn't been able to stop Thanos from destroying half the universe, and she hadn't been able to save Natasha and Stark. What good was all of her training if she couldn't use it to save those that needed saving?

Glancing over at Bucky, a surge of relief washed over her.

She'd saved him.

For two years they'd lived in Wakanda and had recreated the life they'd made in Bucharest. But it had been better. Gone were the days when they'd had to constantly look over their shoulders. Gone was the fear that one day they'd be discovered and torn away from one another.

They'd grown complacent, and it had cost them their lives.

She still wasn't sure how Steve and the others had managed to bring them all back. All she knew was that one second she and Bucky were turning to dust in the forests of Wakanda and the next they were lying on the ground with half of their friends missing.

Just like Germany, they'd been thrown into the middle of a battle they were ill-equipped to handle, but somehow they'd managed to pull themselves together and work as the team they were supposed to be to defeat the biggest evil the universe had ever seen.

Being reunited with her girls on the battlefield after the Black Order had been dusted had been sweeter than she could've imagined. As they searched through the chaos for their one missing member, they slowly came to the sad realization that their mentor was no longer among them.

YN knew that Stark had paid the ultimate price, but he wouldn't have been able to do it without Natasha's sacrifice. This funeral was a lovely tribute to a man that had brought forth a miracle, but she couldn't help but feel as though Natasha had been forgotten.

With Nat's body lying broken and alone on a world far from their own, the Angels couldn't perform the customary funerary practices that they normally would upon the death of one of their own. But there were some traditions they could still uphold, so those would have to do.

Bucky found YN standing alone in a darkened room of one of the houses they'd rented by the lake with only a single candle for light. He could just make out a framed photograph of Natasha beside a plate with a piece of black bread and a shot of what he could only assume was vodka.

"She'd appreciate the gesture," he said as he walked to stand beside the woman who'd saved him all those years ago.

YN scoffed. "Knowing her, she'd probably hate it." She paused and took a deep breath. "She died a bad death."

"I wouldn't go that far," he argued. "She sacrificed herself. . ."

"Not what I meant," YN interrupted as she tried to find the words to explain. "A person who dies a good death usually has lived a long life and passes away from natural causes. A bad death is when one dies too soon—before they've had time to accomplished the tasks they were sent into the world to complete. Natasha's death was honorable, but it came too soon."

"A bad death, then," Bucky said, finally understanding the distinction. "What will that mean for her soul?"

YN shook her head. "It depends on if you truly believe the superstitious old hags. I've heard some say her soul will roam the earth until her predestined time to depart comes, but I don't know if I believe that—especially with the circumstances of her death. She traded her soul for the Stone, so who knows where it ended up."

"And yet, you still follow the traditions."

"Stark had a lovely send-off, don't you think?" YN asked.

Seeing where she was going with her question, Bucky humored her. "He did."

"He did no more than her," YN said as she gestured to the photo of Natasha. "Where was her tearful goodbye?"

Bucky reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. "It's right here."

She squeezed his hand and nodded.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

She turned to meet his eye. "I sent them to bed."

He shook his head and chuckled under his breath. "Still mothering them, I see."

"Someone has to," she said with a shrug. 

"I shouldn't complain. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Her hand was still intertwined with his and she brushed her thumb over his knuckles as a smile played at the corners of her lips. "A mother? Is that how you see me?"

"You know that's not what I meant," he said softly as his gaze met hers. In the dim light, her eyes were dark and unreadable, but the smirk on her face was unmistakable. "You took care of me when I was at my most vulnerable. I owe you a debt I'll never be able to repay."

She dropped her head and sighed. "I didn't do it so you'd be indebted to me. . ."

"I know," he interrupted. "You did it because you felt guilty for leaving me behind."

Her eyes met his again. "You're as much a victim as I am—as the girls are."

"I know." He leaned forward and brushed his lips across her forehead. There was a part of him that wondered if what was between them was more than just friendship, but in all the years they'd been together, she'd only ever looked at him with sadness in her eyes.

"I'm glad you've finally admitted that to yourself," she said as she took a step away—both physically and emotionally. The feel of his lips against her skin was like fire and if she needed a little space between them so the walls surrounding her heart didn't crumble at his feet. He'd needed a friend, so that's what she'd been. Until her was completely free of HYDRA's hold on him, her feelings were inconsequential.

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_Author's Note: Thank you for reading Day 296 of my writing challenge. I hope you enjoyed it! I hate that Natasha's death seems to have been ignored in Endgame. Her sacrifice was more than just her death—she worked tirelessly to keep order in the universe, as well as searching for Clint to save him from himself. And it was all ignored. There's a part of me that's hoping she'll still be alive somehow. . .some loophole with Steve returning the Stones, but it looks as though we'll have to wait until May to know for sure. But back to the story. Are you surprised that we've got some mutual longing going on between these two? They're both so good at compartmentalizing their feelings. . .much to our frustration! I guess we'll just have to wait to see if either of them ever get up the nerve to make a move! I look forward to your comments, and if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging!_

YN watched Bucky walk back toward the rental houses from the Quantum pad Bruce had constructed near the lakeshore. His shoulders were slumped and the smile that had seemed permanently etched on his face since they'd returned to the land of living was noticeably absent.

He headed straight for her and took a seat on the top step next to her. It didn't take a genius to realize something was wrong, but she'd been by his side for long enough to know that he'd only talk when he was ready. Instead, she slipped her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze to let him know she would wait for as long as he needed.

"He didn't come back," Bucky whispered after a few minutes of silence.

YN was momentarily confused. "Who didn't come back? Steve?"

Bucky nodded. "We talked about it before he left, so I knew what he was going to do."

"I don't understand. . ."

"He returned the Stones and then he went back to 1945 to live his life," Bucky explained with a heavy sigh. "He's an old man now."

YN's jaw slacked open in shock. "He left? He just abandoned you and. . .did what exactly?"

Bucky looked up and met her angry gaze. "He didn't abandon me—I told him to go."

"What? Why in the hell did you do that?"

"He had a chance to fix it all," Bucky explained. "No HYDRA, no Winter Soldier. . ." He paused and gave her a hand a squeeze. "No Red Room."

Her stomach dropped. "But what about. . ."

He shook his head. "He fixed everything we got wrong the first time around." A slow smile played at the corners of his mouth. "He said we all had a great life together."

"And you're okay with that?" she asked before she remembered the look of anguish on his face a few minutes prior. "Of course you're not."

"I am," he argued. "I'm just sad I didn't get a chance to experience it."

"So what happens now?"

"I was hoping you might be able to answer that question for me, Agent YLN," Fury said as he rounded the corner of the house and came into view.

YN quietly let go of Bucky's hand and rose to greet their guest. "Director Fury."

Fury nodded to YN before leaning on the porch railing and looking down at Bucky. "Your old pal just threw a wrench into all my plans."

One corner of Bucky's mouth turned up into a grin. "He's not much one for following orders, is he?"

"No," Fury said with a shake of his head. "No, he is not." He looked back over his shoulder. "But his replacement might be a little more reliable in that department."

Bucky followed Fury's gaze to where Sam was showing Bruce the shield Steve had given him. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"So, there's a new Captain America," YN observed aloud.

"So it seems," Fury answered with his eye still trained on Bucky. "The only question that remains is where that leaves you, Sergeant Barnes."

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked as his brows drew together in a frown.

Fury nodded toward YN. "You planning to stick with Agent YLN and the Angels, or are you still willing to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?"

Bucky turned to YN with a slightly hopeful look in his eye. He hadn't really thought about what would happen to them once the dust all settled, but it seemed like Director Fury was ready to gets the wheels of justice turning sooner rather than later.

He'd gotten used to being with YN, but they'd never really had a chance to figure out what they would do once the world stopped thinking of him as a cold-blooded assassin. He had no doubt that she'd find a place for him amongst her Angels, but he wasn't sure he could work side-by-side with her and manage to keep his feelings for her hidden forever.

Searching her eyes for the slightest hint of something—anything—that would lead him to believe his feelings weren't one-sided, he held his breath. He wanted to confess it all in that moment, but before he could work up the nerve to say anything, she turned away to look at Fury.

"So, are we just going to ignore fact that you didn't bother telling me you weren't dead?" YN asked. Her heart was pounding in her chest after the soul-searching gaze Bucky had just given her. She had no clue what he'd been waiting for her to say, but for the briefest of moments, she'd thought she'd seen a flicker of longing in his steely grey eyes. Chalking it up to her own imagination, she'd done the only thing she knew to do—change the subject.

Taken off guard by the sudden shift in topic, Fury narrowed his eye and considered YN's question. "If I'm not mistaken, all three of us have been _dead_ for the past five years."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. "I was talking about D.C.". She nodded toward Bucky. "Last I'd heard, he was supposed to have killed you. I watched you die, Nick."

The use of his first name rankled him. "I would've told you, Agent YLN, but you kinda ran off with my assassin."

Her cheeks grew warm. She wasn't sure what he knew—or what he thought he knew—but she didn't like what he was implying. "The Avengers had a handle on things."

"They did," Fury acknowledged with a nod. "But neither one of you have answered my question."

She turned to Bucky and tried to get a read on him. Did he even want to stay with her?

Bucky knew what YN had given up all those years to stay by his side, and he'd always felt guilty for causing her to be separated from her girls. They were the closest thing she had to family, and he knew he'd only get in the way if he stayed with her.

Making up his mind, he turned to Fury. "It's time the Angels got their leader back, and we all know Wilson can't be left alone. He's not Captain America yet, but I'm sure if you give me enough time, I'll whip him into shape."

Fury looked from YN to Bucky and back again. He was no expert on the subject, but even he could sense the sexual tension between them from a mile away. But they were adults, and capable of making their own decisions, so he simply nodded. "Then that's settled."

"I'm assuming you have a mission for us?" YN asked as she willed herself not to show a hint of emotion. Her heart was breaking, so the quicker she was back in the field, the better.

Fury nodded. "I do. How soon can you and the Angels be ready to head back to the Ukraine?"

"Give me an hour, sir."

"I've got a jet fueled up and ready to go when you are, Agent YLN." Fury turned to Bucky. "You and Wilson will need to report to the temporary S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in New York City by tomorrow morning for debriefs."

"Yes, sir," Bucky said as he rose to shake the Director's hand.

YN waited until Fury had left to say anything to Bucky. "So, I guess this is goodbye?"

He turned to her and gave her a pained smile. "It seems that way, doesn't it?"

They both hesitated for a moment before they stepped into one another's arms. Holding hands every now and then had been the extent of their physical contact for the four years they'd spent together, so it was a completely new experience to be that close to one another. She'd always wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his arms, and she had to admit that reality was so much better than anything she'd ever imagined.

She took a deep breath and took a step back. Any longer and she couldn't be sure she wouldn't spill her guts to him right then and there. She steeled her nerves and looked him in the eye. "Take care of yourself."

He met her gaze and waited for a half beat just to make sure. When he was sure she wasn't going to say anything else, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "You, too."

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_Author's Note: Thank you for reading Day 312 of my writing challenge. I hope you enjoyed it! Don't you just want to smack the two of them upside the head? Mutual pining has got to be the angstiest trope there is! Fury sees it, but they're completely oblivious! Do you think these two will ever get a clue that their feelings aren't one-sided, or will they die from pent-up sexual frustration? I guess we'll just have to wait to find out! I look forward to your comments, and if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging!_

"Fury wants to see you," Maria told Sam as she popped her head into his office.

Sam looked up hopefully. "A mission?"

Maria shrugged and gave him a smile. "Maybe."

He didn't need to be told twice. Hopping up from his seat, he gave Maria a pat on the shoulder as he headed down the hall toward the Director's office. Knocking on the open jamb, he let himself in and headed straight for the visitor's chair.

"Wilson," Fury said without looking up from the folder in front of him. 

Sam leaned forward and tried to read the file upside down. "Got a mission for me?"

"I do." Fury shut the folder and leaned back in his chair. "A drug lord down in South America is staging a coup against the government. Sound like something you and Barnes would be interested in?"

"Are there hostages?" Sam's smile faded as his mind began running through a few dozen different strategies.

"That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no," Sam said quickly. "It's just. . .I was thinking. . .I mean, I understand if it's not feasible. . ."

"Spit it out, Wilson," Fury said as he started to lose his patience. "We don't have all day."

"I was just wondering if we might need a little help, if you know what I mean," Sam said as one eyebrow rose expectantly. "Barnes has been a little more. . .sullen, than usual."

Realization dawned on Fury's face. "Ah, I see." He steepled his fingers together and leaned forward. "You're thinking the Angels might need to assist with this operation."

"Only if it's not a problem." Sam waited a beat to see what Fury would say. He knew he was overstepping his bounds—both with Fury and Bucky. He could tell his partner was missing his girl—even if he refused to acknowledge the fact that she was his girl.

"It just so happens that they're down in Mexico wrapping up a mission. I'm sure they won't mind meeting you two in Columbia."

_________________

Sam had opted not to tell Bucky that YN and the Angels would be meeting them at the airfield in Columbia. He'd been second-guessing himself for the entire trip south, and he didn't want to risk psyching out his partner before they even touched down. 

When they exited the Quinjet and found the women already there, Sam knew immediately that Fury had refrained from telling YN who their backup would be.

"Bucky," YN said as she tried to hide her surprise. "Fury said he was sending a team, but he failed to mention it was you two."

Bucky shot Sam an evil glare before turning back to his old friend. "This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you."

She nodded as her gaze turned to Sam. If she wasn't mistaken, the new Captain had had a hand in this impromptu reunion, but she was a little confused about the need for secrecy.

"The rebels have surrounded the Capitol and have the President, his family, and a few of the cabinet members held somewhere in the President's private quarters," YN explained as she laid out a blueprint of the building on the hood of the military transport vehicle they'd be using to get into the city.

Sam appreciated her willingness to get right to business. He may have orchestrated this tête-à-tête between her and Bucky, but they had a mission to complete before he was ready to forcibly lock them into a room together.

"I've got Valya and Galina in the city already," YN continued. "Valya's been relaying us information on rebel activity. Galina—our resident supermodel—has been buttering up a few of the rebel soldiers for information on the hostages."

Bucky looked up at the rest of the Angels who were busy checking weaponry. "Who else you got?"

YN glanced over her shoulder. "Sonya's going to stay back here with the Quinjet. She'll be ready to swoop in as soon as we get the President and the other hostages away from the rebels." She pointed to another woman. "Svetlana's our driver, and Nadya will be her navigator. Nadya assisted Agent Barton on a mission down here once before, so she's familiar with the backroads leading to the Capitol—and she's a hell of a sniper."

Bucky nodded to Nadya as a vague memory of her shooting at him resurfaced. He wasn't sure on which occasion it had been, but he knew the two of them had traded bullets once or twice before.

"Duscha will override their security system as soon as we get inside," YN finished up as she pointed to the most vulnerable entrances on the blueprint. "The rest of us will do what we do best."

"And that is?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"Take no prisoners," YN said with a wink. "Any questions gentlemen?"

"Just one," Sam said. "When do we leave?"

YN checked in with her Angels. They all gave her a thumbs up as they finished loading the weapons into the back of the truck. "The sun's about to set, so now's good for us."

Svetlana and Nadya climbed into the cab while the rest of them headed for the covered bed. Once they were close enough to the Capitol, they slipped out under the cover of darkness and began to take out the guards on patrol before breaching the building.

YN and Bucky automatically teamed up as soon as their feet hit the ground, and while the two of them had never worked together on a mission, their years of being on the run helped them to anticipate the other's every move.

The Angels and Sam worked together as though they'd been a team for years, and in less than ten minutes, they'd taken control of the Capitol. Duscha's fingers had flown over her keyboard as she'd bypassed the firewalls and disabled all the alarms and door locks. She gave them a thumbs up and traded her tech gear for an assault rifle.

Each pair swept the hallways and took out the rebels as they encountered them before converging outside the President's private quarters.

"Otoniel has the President and the other hostages locked in the panic room," Galina reported once she and Valya joined the group. She unfolded the blueprints and showed them where the room was located. "Otoniel has set up his command station in the parlor just to the right of this entrance."

Duscha had set the cameras on a loop so the rebels wouldn't know they were coming, so Sam and Bucky kicked down the door and they all stormed the private rooms. Arina and Zinaida went straight to the panic room so Duscha could bypass the security on the door since it was set up on a completely different system than the rest of the Capitol.

Sam, Bucky, and YN headed to the parlor to take out Otoniel before he could pull one of his famous disappearing acts. He'd been a thorn in the Columbia government's side for years, and tended to stick to the shadows. This was the first time he'd made an appearance in almost a decade and every intelligence agency in the world was anxious to apprehend him.

The next few minutes were complete chaos as bullets flew between the rebels and the Angels. YN wasn't worried about her girls, and only just registered that the sounds of pain were all masculine in nature as she and her team descended on Otoniel.

She had no idea how the drug lord knew they'd be coming, but he was waiting for them as soon as they entered the parlor. With a war cry, he began spraying the doorway with bullets and Bucky's arm automatically rose to block them.

But he wasn't quick enough.

Instinctively, she took a step to her right as one bullet tore through her shoulder—the same shoulder Bucky had buried a knife in so many years ago. The bullet had been heading straight for Bucky's chest, so there'd been no question of her putting herself between him and certain death. She stumbled back in pain, but gritted her teeth as she grabbed the gun with her other hand and continued shooting. Since the incident in Makhachkala, she'd made it a point to become as ambidextrous as possible.

What seemed like hours of trading bullets really only lasted a few minutes. Dropping her weapon to the ground, YN tore the pinned up rebel flag from the wall and used it to staunch the flow of blood from her shoulder.

"You're injured," Bucky said with a shocked expression on his face as rushed to YN's side and began adding pressure to her wound. 

"It's nothing," she said through clenched teeth. "Most of the nerves are dead in that shoulder anyway."

His face paled as he remembered the Soldier's last encounter with her on the rooftop in Russia. "I'm. . ."

"Save it, Barnes." She glared at him as she dared him to apologize yet again for something he'd had no control over. "We've been over this—it's in the past."

He hated that she was so nonchalant about the fact that he'd tried to kill her on more than one occasion, or that she always seemed to be the one to step in and save him. As he held pressure on her shoulder, he began replaying the gun fight in his mind, and it was only then that he realized she'd taken the bullet for him.

"You've got to stop saving my life," he said as he sighed softly.

A wry grin lifted one corner of her mouth. "Never."

"Why do you keep doing this?"

She saw the confusion in his eyes and it almost killed her to know that he truly didn't think his life was worth saving. It might have been a combination of adrenaline and shock, but something inside of her snapped. Reaching out, she cupped his jaw with her good hand and allowed her carefully constructed mask to slip away.

"I don't want to live in a world that you're not in," she admitted just before her heart began racing in her chest.

"You don't think I feel the same way?"

She searched his face, and the raw emotion distorting his features told her what she'd long hoped for, but she needed to be sure. "Why'd you push me away, then?"

He closed his eyes and dropped his head so that his forehead rested against hers. "You deserve better than me."

Lifting his chin with one finger, she forced him to look her in the eyes. "We were both in the Red Room, Bucky. Neither one of us is innocent."

"You chose to leave."

"So did you," she reminded him. "As soon as you were free of HYDRA, you left."

"I left because of you," he whispered. "You've always seen the good in me—even when I couldn't see it myself. Being around you makes me almost believe that I'm not the monster they created. . ."

Tired of listening to him blame himself again, she shut him up in the only way available to her. With her hand behind his head, she pulled him forward so she could silence the words from his lips with her own. In the movies, this type of kiss was always passionate and frenzied, but this wasn't the movies. 

The shock of feeling her lips against his was enough to make him inhale sharply, but as her mouth tentatively began to explore his, he was left completely breathless. He'd dreamt of this moment for years, and he was terrified of doing something that would cause her to stop. But as her lips grew more and more urgent against his, instinct kicked in and he finally began kissing her back.

"This is so romantic," Sam said as he sat beside a trussed up Otoniel and nudged him in the ribs. "Isn't this romantic? You don't take a bullet for just anyone, you know."

Bucky and YN broke apart and stared at Sam in shock.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bucky asked.

Sam pointed to himself. "Who, me? Oh, I'm just sitting here enjoying the fact that I was right." He nudged Otoniel again. "I'm always right, but it's nice to get confirmation every now and then."

"Right about what?" YN asked. "Any why is he still here? Shouldn't he be in a jail cell already?"

"We're waiting for Fury's transport team to come pick him up," Sam explained with a shrug. "And I was right about you two." He pointed from Bucky to YN. "Y'all have been pining away for each other for years now, and frankly Fury and I were sick of dealing with the lovesick puppy-dog looks."

"We have not. . ." YN began.

"That's not true," Bucky said at the same time.

They both stopped talking and turned to each other. Now that the truth was out in the open, they both had no choice but to finally admit what they'd known all along.

"I love you," Bucky said without preamble. "I think I've always loved you, even if I didn't consciously know it."

"I love you, too," she said as a smile spread across her face. "Ever since I found out who you really were in the Red Room, all I've ever wanted to do was save you. I tried to tell myself that I was doing it out of kindness, but that's a lie."

"See, don't you feel better now?" Sam asked as a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents came into the parlor to take away Otoniel and begin patching up YN's shoulder. "I'm just like Will Smith in Hitch—matchmaker extraordinaire."

Bucky wanted to throttle him, and he was pretty sure YN felt the same way, but as their eyes met yet again, he realized neither one of them could be too angry since Sam's interference had finally gotten them to admit what they should've told one another years ago. Their pasts would always haunt them, but perhaps together they could finally find redemption for their sins.

** _~ The End ~_ **

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_Author's Note: Thank you for reading Day 360 of my writing challenge. I hope you enjoyed it! You all knew I couldn't let the two of them avoid their feelings forever, right? But did you guess that Fury and Sam would be the ones to finally push them together? I love when the Avengers play matchmaker! What did you think of their romantic moment in the midst of chaos? Of course she took a bullet for him. . .and of course he still thinks he's a monster that doesn't deserve love. . .but like she said, they're both a product of the Red Room and HYDRA, so they're kinda perfect for one another. This Miniseries has been one of my favorites and I'm so sad to say goodbye to it. . .especially since we're now only a few days away from the end of the 365 Day Challenge! This has been the most wonderful experience and I'm so grateful that I decided to embark on this journey and that you chose to join me! I look forward to your comments, and if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging!_


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